I had always wondered what it would be like…the end, the light at the end of the tunnel, what the term afterlife truly meant when it was given true reality…and my discovery was rather accurate to what I thought it would be, the very definition of a boring journey.
I lived a life that followed all the proper ethical codes to land me at the pearly gates; I heard it was an incredible place. At least it was the rave of my local church, something tells me I should have paid more attention to the people that were raving about it, as opposed to the image they painted eternity to be.
For beginners, I can understand why this pearly gate is raved about so much. I’ve been standing in line for what feels like 10 years, I’m pretty sure it has been 10 years, I stopped checking my watch because apparently it doesn’t work here. Time doesn’t matter in paradise apparently.
Back to the point, I’ve been standing in line to this fucking gate for this entire time while at the front of this wonderful line of misfits is a little bald man that does the same shit over and over.
He looks at the person looking to get in, he smiles, he nods, they advance. I’d like to point one special factor out, not one person has been turned down. No one has been denied walking through the gate, which leaves me to wonder, why is this process this damn slow?
I seriously feel like I’m in a mental ward awaiting medication so that I can feel okay. My patience is in a place of constant violation and all I can think about is whether this asshole can nod any faster.
My mind is screaming, lets be fair though, no one said anything about patience being a requirement to access heaven, and I was one impatient fucker.
I’ve heard of counting sheep being a technique to try and calm ones mind, usually used to try and sleep, but even when I tried to do it all I could think about was throwing one of those animals as a means to make baldie up there a real time bobble head.
“Can you hurry the fuck up!” I screamed feeling the veins pulsate in my neck. I get it, you must think I’m just begging for them to reconsider my little stay here at Paradise Pearly Gates, I’d be lying to say I myself, but it really didn’t matter what I wanted or thought.
Divination or whatever the hell you want to call this period of time while waiting for that prick up there came with a personal space silence barrier. Nothing I said seemed to extend past the breath that escaped my mouth. Exciting right? I could hear myself think and talk, but the people in front of me and behind me? Nope. Silent as could be, as a matter a fact the one made faces at me thinking they were clever and got a full visual of me giving them the finger.
Again, there are things punishable by damnation but apparently my version of sign language wasn’t one of them. Suffice to say this person won’t look at me anymore, as much as it breaks my heart, I can’t say I care very much.
What I cared about was the time and space I was in, this so called journey toward paradise, and the fact that it seemed like anything but.